Singing At The Menin Gate (The Last Post)

 

Clothed in jackets of blue, with poppies so vivid and red,

Here to remember the brave, to recall the long lost dead.

Visitors quietly gather, to form an expectant crowd,

Pipes of a band march nearer, the drumming so powerfully loud.

 

The strength and drone of their sound, touches everyone on this day,

Such bands have passed here before, leading soldiers along Menin way.

The bugler plays his lament, and silence covers us all,

Our thoughts are with the many, they came so far to fall.

 

We break the silence with voices that sing of the sacrifice made,

Of men who were faced with horror, and of fields where bodies were laid.

Our voices soar above us, creating a haunting sound,

Singing words of thanks and remembrance for all those never found.

 

Once our song is over and wreaths and poppies are laid,

Then we succumb to the sadness and shed tears for all those who stayed.

We remember our journey to Ypres, in our thoughts the Great War will stay,

We pay tribute to those who gave all when they passed along Menin Way.

 

Marilyn Allen .